


Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

by SilviaKundera



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: M/M, Spurious Falsehoods About Canada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-17
Updated: 2012-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-29 17:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilviaKundera/pseuds/SilviaKundera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are inevitable. And then there's Sean and Eduardo in a Canadian shack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

**Author's Note:**

> This ridiculous encounter was written for [the Canadian Shack Challenge's 10th anniversary](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/canadian_shack_2011).

By the time Sean finally reached Eduardo and his freaky little hideaway, he'd experienced extreme turbulence, snow mobiles, an ice storm, the complete lack of his hair care products at any market in a 5 city radius, and rabid sled dogs (it was in the eyes, Sean can sense these things, they totally craved his blood).

His heart was pounding, his nose was raw, and he couldn't feel his hands or feet.

"You couldn't have moved to, like, Australia?" Sean demanded, after he and his shoulder had busted the door open. "I hear they have a very nice outback."

It was stark but homey inside, with a wide bed, stuffed bookshelves, and a crackling fire. A sleek, sleeping laptop sat at the corner of a giant throw rug that covered the center of the one room structure. The rug was thick, red, and looked so fluffy that he was seriously considering rubbing his wind-whipped face into it.

" _Sean_?" Eduardo had stumbled back against the fireplace, eyes open wide and staring like he was an impossibility (which, to be fair, in any decent world would be the only logical conclusion). Despite the cold, his skin was slightly golden against his white thermal shirt. Draw-string pants were hanging perilously on his hips, heavy grey socks covered his feet, and his hair was comfortably mussed. So: obnoxious and off-putting as usual.

"You have to come back," Sean announced and then paused to make the appropriate faces and to shake the light dust of snow off his jacket. "We--you should understand the full gravity of the situation if I'm admitting that we need you. "

There was a mulish set to Eduardo's jaw and so Sean hunkered down next to the roaring fireplace to try and get some tingling back into his fingers while explaining how Mark had thrown everything away for a level three programmer with a truly magnificent ass, just calling in one morning to say he'd quit and was giving his shares away to Chris, since he'd always secretly liked him the best. (Apparently they were planning to run a charity together for Artificial Intelligence Right To Life Defense. No one really knew what that was about, but then Mark never _did_ do anything half way. )

"Dustin tracked you down by your card charges at the corner store we thought was _a lot closer_ than 53 kilometers from here. Yeah, kilometers, I know. It's just unnatural. "

"Are you fucking serious?" Eduardo said dangerously.

"No," Sean snapped back, stripping down to long sleeves and damp pants. "I just track down whiny bitches in the Canadian wilderness for fun. It's like a hobby. With bonus hypothermia."

"And it's not that I'm not happy he's happy," he mused, "because you know how bad he needed to take five, but just saying, what about the children? And by children I mean _me_."

At the sight of Eduardo's narrowing eyes and bunching shoulders, Sean shouted, "You are not allowed to kick me in the balls when I faced canine hellspawn only 9 hours ago!"

Valiant, if wholly unsuccessful, attempts were made to fight him off ("whoa!"), until Eduardo's mouth was warm against his neck (" _whoa_!"), and the leg fitting itself between Sean's thighs was pressing forward in a very nonthreatening and to be devoutly encouraged manner.

Eduardo's mouth darted up to capture his in a quick kiss, tasting like sugared tea (which explained the cup he'd almost tripped over in the doorway), and Sean choked out, "Well, I guess whatever helps you work out your issues," as Eduardo moved down to lick at his shoulder and then further down to his hip bone, sucking at the skin there.

Sean gasped, "You know. I," hands flailing for the back of Eduardo's head and curling into his stupid, soft hair as Eduardo's hands unbuttoned the front of his pants and then were massaging his cock through his briefs.

"I'm here for you," he panted as Eduardo folded the fabric down and leaned in. "In this—your mouth is so _hot_ holy fuck-- this difficult time of need."

It was sloppy and desperate, Eduardo's hands clutching at his ass and Sean petting at the sides of his neck. His hips hitched forward and Eduardo gamely tried to gulp him down before pulling back to suck at the head.

It occurred to Sean that Eduardo looked kind of insanely good like that, and then he was being punched in the chest with an orgasm.

"Oh dear god, we are totally fucking next in front of that fireplace. Your trauma is _awesome_."

"And you wonder why I hate you," Eduardo said, though this statement was severely undercut by his willingness to kiss playfully back while stumbling to the rug and getting very naked. And then terribly sweaty.

Not that Sean was complaining.


End file.
